On the Line (14 page)

“I just want you with me.” Sadness crept into his features.

Kelsey frowned. “You know if things were different I would go with you in a heartbeat,
but I think I need to stay here for a while.” She reached across the divide between
them and took his hand. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

“You’re leaving?” came a small voice from the doorway.

All three of the adults turned to see Zach staring at them, his eyes wide and full
of tears. Janelle’s heart split and she started to rise. Patrick was on his feet
and walking toward Zach before she could stand.

“I have to work for a little while, but I’ll come back,” Patrick was saying, trying
to soothe Zach.

Zach’s head quickly wobbled from side to side. “You’re lying!” he shouted. “Lying
is your job. You don’t care about me. Just go away!” Zach turned and ran up the stairs.
Patrick’s face was stricken and pale as he glanced at Janelle and Kelsey before he
turned and raced after Zach.

Janelle felt numb as she looked at her sister. Kelsey’s eyes were closed and tears
slowly slid down her cheeks. Janelle hoped Patrick could calm her son, but felt the
time had come to find him a good therapist.

Nine

“Zach?” asked the man standing at the office doorway. He was blond, dressed in a
dark-blue polo shirt and khaki pants. Through silver-framed glasses he looked at
Zach and then met Janelle’s stare.

She was sitting in the waiting room of what she hoped would be the office of the
therapist who would help Zach. It had been four days since the boy had called Patrick
a liar and fled from the room. Patrick had been able to calm him down and convince
him that he wasn’t lying and he would be home as soon as his work was done. Zach
had come down for dinner, but had remained silent and refused to say where he’d gotten
such an idea in his head. But the adults had all known anyway and agreed that the
sooner they could get to the bottom of the damage Richard had done, the better for
Zach.

As Janelle held the man’s look, she slowly stood and tugged on Zach’s sleeve so he
would do the same. The man came closer and held out his hand.

“Mrs. Wagoner, I’m Andrew Ross,” he said.

Janelle frowned slightly as she shook his hand. His name had been at the top of the
short list of therapists the psychologist at the hospital had given her. He’d also
come highly recommended as a child therapist by Nathan during their conversation
on the ride to the hospital the morning after the kidnapping. He dealt with children
from abusive families and sent people to him all the time. But despite the good recommendations,
he was not what she expected. Andrew Ross appeared to be younger than Janelle. She
quickly did the math in her head, with college and post-graduate degrees, how long
had he really been practicing?

“Please, call me Janelle.” She dropped her hand and placed it on the back of Zach’s
shoulder. “This is Zach.”

The therapist squatted to Zach’s eye level and held out his hand again. “Hi Zach,
I’m Andrew. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Zach looked at Andrew’s hand then inched behind Janelle. Janelle’s eyes widened in
surprise as she looked at the therapist and shrugged.

“I am so sorry. He’s never done this before,” she tried to explain.

Andrew stood and smiled comfortingly. “It’s okay. It’s actually quite normal behavior.
Now, why don’t we step into my office so we can talk?” He looked down at Zach and
his smile grew by a fraction of an inch. “I have a surprise for you.”

Andrew stepped aside and motioned Janelle and Zach toward the door he’d just exited.
Once they were all in the room, Andrew closed the door behind them. He stepped around
to the side of the room as Janelle took it all in.

The lower half of the room was rich mahogany-wood paneling, large squares of raised
wood outlined in each panel. The floor was a plush, dark-blue carpet that was just
a shade darker than the wall color above the paneling. Bookshelves covered the far
wall, but only one section actually held books. The other shelves were filled with
an assortment of white, lined baskets, their contents hidden from view. A white sofa
was centered on the wall to her right, an abstract painting in bold colors over the
back of it. The other wall had two tall, narrow windows, spaced evenly along the
expanse. A brown leather chair sat in front of the bookshelves, facing the sofa at
an angle, a small dark end table between them.

Andrew was standing at the bookshelf, pulling baskets out and examining their contents
before deciding whether he would put them back or place them on the floor at his
feet. When he’d amassed five or six baskets, he turned and looked at Janelle.

“Please, have a seat on the sofa, Janelle. Zach, I’d like you to come over here and
help me out,” he said, his expression full of concern and compassion.

Zach didn’t move.

Janelle remained behind him and nudged him with her hand. “Go ahead, sweetie. Let’s
see what’s in the baskets.”

Slowly, Zach made his way toward Andrew and his baskets, and Janelle took the same
painfully slow steps toward the couch, watching Zach the entire time. She sat down
as Zach reached the baskets, and the expression on his face shifted slightly, even
though he didn’t smile. He hadn’t smiled since the kidnapping. Janelle watched as
Andrew pointed to the different baskets and talked to Zach in a voice she couldn’t
hear.

Together, the two of them moved the baskets closer to the center of the room, and
Zach sat down and started to rummage through them. Andrew sat in the leather chair
and turned it slightly so he could observe Zach. Together, Janelle and Andrew watched
Zach in silence, until Janelle’s curiosity got the better of her.

She’d watched Zach pick through two of the six baskets, then asked, “Aren’t you going
to talk to him about what happened?”

Andrew shook his head but didn’t take his eyes off of Zach. “No, I’m just going to
observe for now.”

Observe?
“Why?” Janelle asked.

His lips turned up slightly as he looked at her. “I like to start my young clients
out with what’s called ‘play therapy.’ It helps me to see how he interacts with the
toys, and how he allows them to interact with each other. He may not be able to,
or even want to, tell me how he’s feeling about what happened, but if I watch closely
enough, I can get a pretty good idea. And if I can’t figure it out, I’ll ask him
to clarify.”

Janelle nodded her understanding as Andrew turned to observe Zach again.

“And from my observations and his explanations, we’ll be able to talk it out and
I’ll, hopefully, help him come to terms with his experiences,” he finished quietly.

Janelle had to admit she was impressed. She never would have thought it could be
that simple, but it made sense. Even she had to admit she’d noticed a slight difference
in the way Zach played with Zoe and their toys. It hadn’t been anything extreme,
and she wasn’t sure she could even place what exactly had changed, but she had noticed
that something was off.

She turned her attention to Zach as well and asked, “What are you starting with?”

“I thought we could start with puppets before we move on to other, more complex toys.
I’ve given him the option. Some of the baskets have pre-made puppets, and there are
supplies in the others for him to make his own. I’ve told him he could use mine,
make his own, or both, but I asked him to pick out a few to represent the people
who are important to him.”

As he’d answered her questions, Andrew’s eyes had remained focused on Zach, narrowing
and relaxing as he observed the boy. Janelle tilted her head
approvingly, satisfied
with his answers and focus, then settled into the corner of the couch to watch what
might unfold.

Janelle sat in the overstuffed armchair and looked out of the bay window across the
room. She and Zach had come home from therapy and had a quiet dinner with Kelsey,
Patrick, and Zoe. She’d then gotten the kids into bed and told them goodnight, and
now she waited while Kelsey and Patrick did the same.

She tried to force her mind onto the events of the day, the therapy session with
Andrew, what she’d witnessed and learned, the nearly silent dinner and what it might
mean, but her thoughts kept straying to Nathan. She hadn’t told Kelsey she’d seen
him at the station, and she hadn’t called him since. After the cold shoulder he’d
given her, she didn’t see the point. If he wanted to talk to her, he knew where to
find her. She wasn’t going anywhere.

“Patrick, I told you I can walk.” Kelsey’s voice drifted down the stairs before her
feet appeared. “You carry me up. I come down on my own.”

Janelle’s lips twitched, and she shook her head at her sister’s commanding tone.
She’d forgotten how much she missed hearing them. The replying grumble from Patrick
made her chuckle out loud. Janelle turned in time to see Kelsey stop on the floor
just in front of the steps, turn around, and fling her arms around Patrick’s neck.
She lifted her injured leg as she stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his
frowning lips.

Janelle looked away. She was happy for her sister—Kelsey deserved her happiness—but
it was still hard to watch the examples of affection Kelsey and Patrick shared, even
if they were rarely knowingly in Janelle’s presence. A few moments passed before
the couple came into the living room and sat on the couch. Kelsey winced as she placed
her legs up on the coffee table.

“How’s your leg today?” Janelle asked.

“Not too bad. It hurts less and less every day, but it’s so tired by the time we
get the kids into bed that it aches,” Kelsey answered, her hand lightly rubbing the
spot where Richard’s bullet had entered her thigh.

Janelle saw Patrick’s eyebrow lift slightly as he frowned. He’d become a little less
sensitive about the topic, but she could tell he still didn’t like to talk about
it.

“How did therapy go?” Kelsey asked, turning her full attention on Janelle after casting
a comforting glance at Patrick.

Janelle thought about her answer. “It went well, I think. It wasn’t what I’d been
expecting.”

“Why? What did Zach say?” Kelsey’s brow furrowed slightly as she sat back into the
circle of Patrick’s arm.

“Nothing, really,” Janelle answered and explained Andrew’s play therapy method.

“So, what did Zach play with today?” Kelsey asked.

“Puppets,” Janelle replied with a slight smile. “Andrew asked him to find or make
puppets to represent the important people in his life.”

“Andrew?” Kelsey’s voice held more than a question.

“He’s not a doctor, he doesn’t have a PhD, he doesn’t need one,” Janelle explained
as it had been explained to her. “And he doesn’t like his patients to call him Mr.
Ross, he says it’s too formal. He wants the kids to be relaxed around him.”

Kelsey slowly nodded, but Janelle saw a slight apprehension in her eyes and wondered
what she might be thinking.

“Anyway,” Janelle continued, ignoring the lingering question in Kelsey’s eyes. “Patrick,
you’ll be happy to know Zach found a superhero puppet and immediately said it was
you.”

Patrick chuckled, and Kelsey patted his knee as she grinned at him.

“I wore an apron. Zoe’s had pigtails and Dad’s was a gray-haired man. He even found
a police puppet.” Janelle choked on the rest of the words and looked at her lap as
she closed her eyes. Her chest burned to think that Zach considered Nathan an important
person in his life when Nathan may never be a part of it again. She swallowed the
lump in her throat and looked at her sister. “He had to make puppets for you, Richard,
and Mom.”

“Uh-oh,” Kelsey said with a slight smile, her eyes telling the truth of her turmoil.

“Richard’s puppet had angry eyes, red cheeks, and an open mouth. Zach said it was
because he always yelled at everyone.”

Kelsey nodded and Patrick scowled.

“Mom’s had angry eyes too,” Janelle continued and began to frown.

“What’s wrong?” Kelsey questioned.

“It’s funny, I wasn’t surprised to see it at the time, but now that I think about
it, I’m bothered by it,” Janelle answered and realized she wasn’t making sense. She
waved off her sister’s impending question when Kelsey opened her mouth. “The puppet
he made for Mom. He made a little fist for it with a pointing finger.” Janelle held
up her hand to model what she meant, her fist closed with her index finger sticking
out, pointing it at Kelsey. “Andrew asked him why he did that, and Zach said that’s
what she looks like when she’s talking to us.”

Kelsey laughed out loud. “Oh my goodness, that’s funny,” she said between giggles.
Then her face slowly sobered as she sat up on the edge of the couch. “Oh,” she repeated
more deliberately, her eyes widening on Janelle. “Oh, no.” Her hand crept up to cover
her lips. “He sees that?”

Janelle shrugged. “Apparently so.”

“He’s right, she does point that finger at the two of you,” Patrick said and placed
his elbows on his knees. “He’s obviously very observant.”